


Kieran van der Linde

by ReticentResolve



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Basically Kieran joins the Van der Linde gang instead of that other one he mentions., Character Study, Pre-Canon, Young Arthur Morgan, Young Dutch van der Linde, Young Hosea Matthews, Young Kieran Duffy, kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:00:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26696398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReticentResolve/pseuds/ReticentResolve
Summary: In which The Van Der Linde gang encounters Kieran Duffy, failed militaryman and just as equally failed outlaw out on his own in Oklahoma in the summer of 1882.
Relationships: Annabelle/Dutch van der Linde, Bessie Matthews/Hosea Matthews
Comments: 3
Kudos: 11





	Kieran van der Linde

**Author's Note:**

> I keep starting too many stories. But this idea just wouldn't leave my head.

For once, they had not had to move due to the bounties on their heads driving them out. Hosea decided he rather liked it. He'd returned from his brief stint with Bessie up in the Grizzlies to Dutch and Arthur living out of an abandoned cabin in Colorado. He'd pitched a brief fit about winter being around the corner and they had agreed to leave the mountains behind them. Arthur was more than happy, while Dutch had done more than his fair share of grumbling. But Bessie and Annabelle had happily sang a ditty from upon the wagon, and quickly brought back his good mood.

It had taken a good two weeks, but Hosea could not be happier that they had done so upon turning around the 9th day to find an enormous gray cloud covering the mountaintops they had come from. Dutch had begrudgingly agreed that Hosea had been in the right and quickly began to lead them down south to Oklahoma. They didn't stop until they came across a small settlement, hardly more than 20 buildings, a saloon and a general store. It was a strange place. But at the same time, did not seem to be a bad base of operations for the time. There were no sheriffs. The policing was just left in the hands of the citizens, half of which were women and children. If they didn't raise any alarms, they could easily take in a big score or two from the wealthy families.

Dutch, of course was the first to hit the town. Left for it at the break of dawn while the others finished setting up camp in a clearing just a few miles away. It was an interesting little place. The folks were, of course, skeptical of the new face in town. But, of course, they rather quickly came around to Dutch's charming wiles.

It was always a simple enough matter. Talked sweetly to some fancily dressed lady on the street, and proceeded to have a few drinks with the two when her husband appeared. Learned the two were looking to make their fortune, had gotten a loan from the husband's father so they could venture out west. Were staying in the saloon for the time being as they looked for peopleto dig their gold for them.

Which Dutch found to be the most idiotic thing he had ever heard. What was to stop the boys that found the gold on their behalf from taking it and running? Of course, he didn't tell them that. The best way to sway people was to just go along with everything they said. 

In the end, they had told Dutch to stop by if he was in town again and left for some strange endeavor or another. A cheerful goodbye and Dutch made his way to the general store. He had not checked exactly what they needed at camp, but they were seemingly always out of gin and sugar cubes so he had at least some idea. 

The sun was just barely hanging in the middle of the sky by the time he left and mounted his black thoroughbred, Belle. A mare he had picked up a few months ago in Colorado. She was a fine girl, a beautiful pure sleek black coat and mane, and very calm and responsive. Arthur had suggested naming her Beauty after some horse novel he'd read a bit ago. After being thoroughly reamed for his lack of creativity, he had thought it through overnight and changed it from Beauty to Beau to Belle. 

Which Dutch, of course found a beautiful irony in. Belle having been the name of a character in a book he had read as a boy as well. About some girl falling in love with a monster. Which many people thought of Dutch as. Of course he had tried to explain to the boy the meaningfulness of such, only to be interrupted by Hosea halfway through. Who looked at the boy in pity and invited him out to hunt. They had come back with a lovely whitetail though, so Dutch couldn't complain.

From his spot on the road, movement caught his eye. In an alleyway, half hidden behind a wooden box a boy was carefully picking through the pockets of a limp man. A large red stain was spread behind the man's head on the wall of the building he was leaning against.

Dutch quietly steered his horse into the alley, the boy abruptly looking up upon Dutch coming within a few feet of him. "Really, boy? You robbing a dead man?"

The boy just looked up at him with wide open green eyes. Mouth opening and closing a few times, completely lost for words. Dutch rolled his eyes. Hardly more than a child and this boy was already barely better than a vulture. 

"You kill that man?"

"No!" The boy stands up straight, a dingy watch held by the chain in his hand. "I... I just... He don't need 'em anymore."

Dutch rolls his eyes. "You're lucky I ain't turning you in to the law, boy. Thieving out in the public like that."

Again, the boy doesn't say anything, just stays crouched over. Visibly trembling in his what was likely once white shirt and glancing around like a goddamn squirrel. 

"Get out of my sight."

And he was more than happy to ablige, dashing out of the alley like the devil itself was on his heels.

It served as just another thing to bring back to Dutch's mind the disgusting things that society was bringing into the west. A thought that permeated his mind the entire ride back to camp. These boys that were going around robbing and killing, they had no respect for their fellow man. And while Dutch would admit he had done more than a few questionable things, even besides robbing and killing, he didn't steal from the dead... he had morals. He supposed those were going out of fashion. All these soulless, dead-eyed workers that inhabited those big cities that kept popping up, working for the rich while barely living off the salaries they were paid. 

It served as a reminder as to why Dutch had formed this group. To help people, to spark a glimmer of doubt in their minds, to make a change. 

* * *

Hosea had been more than willing to go along with Dutch's plan, even going so far as to go with him the next time Dutch went to the bar. Said he wanted to meet this Mr. and Mrs. Palmer who supposedly owned basically the whole town. 

And Dutch wasn't about to argue. He new how to charm people, for sure but Hosea had a silver tongue. Supposedly there was something... suspicious about Dutch's demeanor at times. Put people just a little bit on edge. But Hosea was easily able to deter any of their concerns as simply as putting on his britches in the morning. Dutch would even call it brilliant at times how well they work together.

Unfortunately, the owner of the saloon informed them the two had gone out of town for the day. Apparently he was an old family friend or such. The two did not bother to dig any further and instead leant against the bar to share a few rounds. From the far corner of the room, something caught Dutch's eye.

The boy from the other day was sitting at a table, playing poker with a group of men well over twice his age. He had a large, goofy smile on his face, despite his very unimpressive pile of chips. His cheeks were bright red, and to an unsuspecting eye, it looked very much like the kid had had more than enough to drink and was about to lose his life earnings to the more experienced players. But Dutch and Hosea knew better. They'd seen this before. It weren't all that hard to tell when a man had slapped his cheeks until they shone bright red. You seen it once, you seen it a thousand times. 

Hosea glanced where he was watching the game. "I'll bet you he'll get beaten by the end of this." Dutch mutters, sipping his whiskey nonchalantly. If he were being honest, he thought the kid needed a good beating. 

The other man chuckled. "If he wins, you're buying the next round."

For a moment, the kid just looks out of the window near them, only raising the price by 20 cents upon the men shouting at him. The large bearded man then reveals the fifth card. Two kings, two nines and a queen. The boy screws up his mouth a little. 

The first man abruptly pushes in 3 dollars worth of coins. As the other men's eyes turn to the second, Dutch and Hosea's keep on the boy who, in a very brief moment, pushes his cards together in his hands, drops one to the floor, and slips another out of his coat sleeve. Places his boot over the card on the floor. Not a very discreet method, and one that could have very easily gone south. But the other men were just drunk enough, and just focused enough on the other man that it went unnoticed. 

The second man folded after a moments consideration. Upon the attention going to the kid he paused, looked between his hand and the table for a second, and then went all in. The first one doesn't pause to think, pushes in anohter 2 dollars to match the kid.

A nod was shared amongst the players, and the first player slaps down his cards with a triumphant slap, showing a king and a nine. The goofy smile on the boy widens, and he much more gently puts down his card to reveal a king and a queen.

It's all silent for just a second before the first player shouts. "God dammit!" And slams his fists into the table, knocking the coins out of their stacks. It almost seemed as if he were going to slap the kid, but he settled down well enough when the second player nudged him and said something Dutch couldn't catch. The kid gathered his winnings and thanked them for the game. Knelt down to tie his laces and discreetly slip the dropped card into his shoe before making his way over to the bar and ordering a drink.

Hosea had a smile on his face. "He almost reminds me of Arthur. With a little more tact, of course." 

Dutch snorts a dry laugh. Hosea sets his beer on the bar and goes to walk over to the kid. Dutch rolls his eyes. Debates whether he should tell Hosea then and there the kid is a graverobber. 

"That was a good game there, kid." Hosea remarks, leaning onto the bar next to the teen who flinches so hard he almost slams his head into his bottle of beer. Looks at Hosea warily. "So how long were you waiting for a chance to pull that off?

The kid gulps, and he looks past Hosea to where the men were still playing. "You a lawman or something?"

Hosea puts his hands in the air. "Not at all. In fact, I might be what you would call a... fellow con-man."

"And I just take your word for it?" The boys shifts a little in his seat so he can make for a speedy retreat. "That... seems kind of stupid of me, don't it?"

"Sure does." Hosea says after a pause, laughing for a moment. "I like you, kid." 

He pats the kid on the shoulder, who continues to look at him as though he were insane. "Come on, my friend lost a bet on whether or not you get beat in that game. He has to buy the next round. Considering you won it for me, might as well get you a drink out of it."

Hosea stands, not looking behind him to see the boy hesitate for a moment before following, bringing his half drunk beer with him.

Upon returning to Dutch, Hosea motions over the bartender. "3 shots of your finest whiskey, my friend here is buying."

Dutch gives him a half-hearted, nasty glare. But still places a half dollar onto the bar as payment. The boy stood with Hosea between him and Dutch, staring at Dutch with those same annoying wide eyes. "Boy." Dutch greets.

"...Sir." 

Glancing between the two, Hosea quirks a brow and asks "You two know each other?"

Dutch waves his hand dissmissively "I saw him on the street the other day."

His partner hums, taking his shot from the bartender, who goes on to pour and hand shots to Dutch and the boy. Discreetly, he toasts. "To a con gone well." And softly touches glasses with the boy and Dutch in order. 

Tossing it back, the boy quickly grabs his beer. 

"You better not be chasing that, boy." Dutch interrupts, the boy stopping in his tracks and looking at Dutch. "I paid good money for that whiskey. You enjoy the flavor."

The boy nods, though still winces a little bit at the soft burn and lingering taste. 

They then fell into an awkward silence. The boy started picking at the label on his beer, avoiding making eye-contact with the two men. "Where'd you learn to play, then?"

"My uh... my Da taught me." He pauses to shrug. "Told me there weren't no shame in seeming a fool, so long as you left with heavier pockets."

They spent a little bit longer standing there and chatting. Not much came of it, learned the boy was 18, and not much more. Dutch got more than a bit annoyed with the boy's awkward mannerisms. And the boy seemed very aware of that, as he quickly excused himself, saying he had to check on his horse and never returning.

"I like the boy." Hosea smiles into his bottle. Already knowing the response he was going to get. "Do you-"

"No." Dutch says in a snippy tone. "He's a froggy coward and I don't much want to see more of him."

The other outlaw rolls his eyes. Dutch formed his opinions of people very quickly. And he was very confident and self-assured. That was why he was so ready to take in Arthur, and why Bessie and Annabelle were tagging along. Not many gangs were okay with bringing along women on their travels. But Dutch knew his and the gangs abilities well enough to not worry about any smear it would potentially bring upon his reputation.

Hosea holds up a hand placatingly. "I ain't gonna argue with you, Dutch."

A few more rounds, a few quick pickpockets, and the two left the bar. Shaky in their saddles and yet still trading a bottle of gin back and forth on the ride back. 

* * *

It wasn't exactly a shocker to them that they had to move within two months of finding themselves in Stillwater. Dutch and Hosea had executed their plan well enough against the Mr. and Mrs. Palmer, had stolen some half dozen family heirlooms and an original painting. Took some of the money to an orphanage at Bessie's behest and then proceeded to let the bag fly loose above the slums of the town. Had to keep the painting for now. The fence had only offered $5 and the outlaws knew they could get much more were they to find a gallery or some similarly art savvy rich man. 

The next day, Annabelle had informed them that as she was walking past the sheriff's office, she overheard them hearing from someone or other the location of their camp. Had hopped onto her strawberry roan tenessee walker and galloped back to camp. Everything was packed and in the wagon by noon and the four were well on the road south. 

Took a week or so to get to the next settlement. A tiny thing mostly inhabited by farmers and hunters. They'd stocked up on the meats, tobacco and got the girls- who were a bit peeved at having to move so frequently- a few flowers on the way back.

After that, it was a quick enough thing to keep on the road. Within a few more days they had come to a city that seemed a well enough place to settle for a bit. A decent bit... not bigger, but more compact than Stillwater. Much more of a big city, which Dutch was quick to complain about. 

They had decided to make camp on the cusp of a small hill overlooking the town. Just below so that the people of the town couldn't see anything more than the smoke from their fire. 

Certainly there would be many opportunities presenting themselves in a city like this. But Hosea was very insistent that they practice a bit more patience and wait a little longer so that they could be sure that no word of them had reached this far. 

Arthur and the girls were sent into town, the two going with a story of being his aunts and being down here on their way through to Montana. The two were good at selling a story for having never been a part of a gang before. Arthur had discreetly checked the bounty boards as the women went to run any sort of errands they had to do. Played a game of dominoes in the park with a lady who had just finished her shift in a factory. Didn't play for money or nothing, Arthur wasn't looking to steal from people like her. 

The girls eventually joined him, and the two very thoroughly reamed him about spending a day sitting around with a pretty lady. The teen vehemently ignored them, bid farewell to the lady and they returned to camp.

It was gladly reported that Arthur had neither seen nor heard anything about a Dutch Van Der Linde or a Hosea Matthews in town. Still, they all had a conversation over dinner that night to agree upon some names to use while in town. The girls had a bit too much fun with it perhaps, thinking it would be cute if they were Rose and Mary Gold.

The next day was almost strangely calm. Dutch, Hosea and Arthur went to fish for a bit in a small pond. Only to discover the only thing in there were some perch. Nothing of any substance. Certainly not enough to feed everyone tonight. 

To which Hosea admitted he had planned on going out with Bessie that night. It was something they had done once or twice in Stillwater, but the restaurants were absolutely mediocre and Dutch had given him more than enough crap for even going back once. But this was a big city, and Hosea was confident they could find something substantial here. 

They set off at about 5pm, waving goodbye to Dutch, Arthur and Annabelle who were sitting around the fire, scaling the tiny fish they had caught. 

Upon them reaching the city, it took a little bit to decide where exactly to go. Hosea had planned to take Bessie somewhere fancy. Well... fancy enough. He wasn't about to slam down $10 for a meal, but he wanted to go to one of the places on that strip in the middle of town, where there were restaurants, barbers and tailors galore. But Bessie insisted they not spend too much and directed her horse to a small german pub and saloon a bit further into the poor district. 

And Hosea was damn glad she did. The place had good beer and good- albeit kind of strange food. The place just served a house meal, the bartender said. His wife made whatever she wanted to that night, just as though it were a meal for her family. But about 40 times more than if it were for just the couple and their child. Mashed potatoes he knew, some fancy sausage and topping Hosea couldn't remember the names of. The man said is was cabbage. But he himself didn't know how to describe it in english either. 

They were good, hardworking folks. And Hosea was certain he would be returning to this place for as long as they stayed here. Wanted to taste more of these weird foods. Bessie was all for the idea, perhaps even more so than Hosea himself. Her grandfather had immigrated from Austria she said. Didn't see too much of the stuff in her own home life, but was very excited to learn more of it. Nearly talked the ear off the bartender.

Hell, they didn't get to leaving until it was well into the night. Left the restaurant a bit tipsy on their feet. Took a few wrong turns and suddenly found themselves in a neighborhood. A few men were standing on the corner enjoying a few cigars, glanced at them and ignored them. 

As he and Bessie continued down the road towards where a small bridge led out of town, something caught Hosea's eye. A small figure crouched in an alley, long hair covered the man's face, and a dark spot had spread down his side where his arms were gently crossed. 

He tugged on the reins, and his horse halted in front of the alley. Bessie stopped a few feet in front of him. At the noise, the man gently looked up from his prone position. It was almost impossible to see through his mangled bangs, but recognition shone on his face. 

"That you, boy?" 

His mouth gapes for a few seconds before he closes it and swallows. "I..."

"You gone dumb now?" Hosea unmounts a little sloppily and walks over. "You were in Stillwater, right?"

"Yeah..." He answers, placing a hand behind him and standing with much effort. "It is you then? You was in the saloon, right?"

"Right. What you doing here, boy?" Hosea asks and crosses his arms, in the new light able to more clearly see the blood drying on the boy's brown duster. "Nothing good, I wager."

"I..." He looks around for a second. Either looking for an escape, or for anyone listening in. "I robbed a man. I just... well, he was the only one going by..."

Behind him, he can hear Bessie unmounting and walking over. "Didn't go well then, I assume?"

"No." He stops again when Bessie comes up behind Hosea. Damn, this boy were skittish. Although Hosea guesses he couldn't blame him right now. "He came back with his brothers and they shot me. I... played dead. But they took my guns. My money... my horse."

His face contorted. Kid looked almost like he was gonna just fall over in his despair. Must have been what did it in for Bessie, who came out from behind Hosea and put her hands on his shoulders. "You poor thing..."

She hugs him light around the shoulders and glances back at Hosea. The man had told her about his meeting with the boy. And she had a smirk on her face right now.

"Hosea..."

Hosea rolls his eyes- damn did he love this woman- and went to mount his horse. "Come on then, boy. You can come with me, until you have your bearings at least."

"I-" The boy tries to say, but is cut off by Bessie tugging him over by his arm and pushing him to mount up with Hosea. "Why you doin' this, sir?"

"Who knows." The outlaw shrugs, tapping his horse with his spurs as Bessie mounts hers. "Guess I just... got a good feeling about you."

The ride back was far from silent. Hosea and Bessie taled nearly the entire way. About mostly nonsense until they could see the fire through the trees. "You know." Hosea says. "Dutch ain't gonna be too happy. Didn't much care for the boy."

Bessie shrugs. "You didn't much care for Arthur when he found him, right?"

"No, that I did not." Hosea laughs."But you know how Dutch is. He's a much more stubborn man than I."

She reaches over to pat his shoulder, and then in turn the boy's who suddenly looked much more concerned. "It'll be fine."

And with that, they were out of time. From their spot at the fire, Dutch and Annabelle looked up. "Welcome back." Dutch greets. "How was you two lovebird's night out?"

"Well, I think it went well enough." Hosea answers as the two of them move hitch their horses to some of the trees. "You might have a... different opinion."

With that, Hosea takes the reins and gets off of his horse, revealing the boy behind him who very warily looked Dutch's way from under his brows. The silence that answered them was almost deafening and very slowly, Dutch sighed and placed a hand on his head. "I knew this was coming the moment you met that damn kid."

From a few feet away, Arthur takes his hat off of his face and sits up to look over at the commotion. Quirked a brow at the ratty looking man on Hosea's horse. "The hell's goin on?" 

"This boy here was shot. Gonna stay with us for a few days to get back on his feet." Hosea answers.

"Hosea." Dutch stands and walks over to Hosea with crossed arms. "I do not want this vulture in my-"

"Our." Hosea interrupts, though not nearly as angrily. "Camp. Dutch, I found the boy shot and bleeding in an alley." 

He pauses to offer the boy a shoulder so he doesn't fall on his face while dismounting. Up close, the man was damn filthy. His hair was clumpy and too long. Beard was patchy, only long on his chops and little more than stubble anywhere else. Dirt was caked all over him. 

"And we save folk as need saving." 

Arthur huffs with a small smile on his face as Dutch's contorts in a scowl. "Fine, but that boy's your responsibility. I ain't gonna have nothin to do with him."

"Of course." 

The other man turns and stalks into his tent. Annabelle sighed from where she sat at the fire, then got up and walked over to them. "You take off your shirt and sit by the fire, okay? Bessie, can you help me get the bandages and medicine?"

Bessie follows behind as Hosea helps the boy to the fire to sit on the ground by the fire. Arthur sits on one side of him as Hosea does the other. A silence ensued, only permeated by the occasional hoot or cricket.


End file.
